


What happened in between

by Kopfchaot



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, Rebirth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-10-29 22:34:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10863468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kopfchaot/pseuds/Kopfchaot
Summary: It might sound crazy, but it’s true: they’re memories.That’s the only solid explanation he has for the images in his head when he’s not prepared for it, the scenes playing out in front of his inner eye when he lets his thoughts wander, and the words clinging to his mind when he’s asleep.





	What happened in between

________________________ _**Before:**_ _____

 

 _How did we come this far?_  


It is odd – strange, but not estranging. The soft pillows and the heavy blanket; the weight of the arm across his hip, and the warm breath across his ear.

It’s odd, for now, but it feels more natural, more _right_ with every passing minute and he knows: this will be his downfall.

He knows he should get up – escape his prince’s arms before every touch burns itself into his skin and he is doomed to remember and crave it. He should get up and go and not think back to warm hands on his skin and lips on his neck and lower, but he simply doesn’t have the strength. His fingertips trail aimlessly over scars and backbones and sore muscles and he presses a kiss to the soft, blond hair, while the head on his chest gets heavier and heavier and presses the air right out of his lungs.  
  
What has happened can never be again and he knows it all too well.  
  


 

  
  
_____ _**Now:**_ ________________________  
  
  
He can’t stop it, letting his bag fall to the floor when he opens the door to the room he will live in for the next few years and Arthur stands across from him.

  
  
Arthur, who he doesn’t know.

 

Arthur, who he sees for the first time in his ( _this_ ) life.

 

Arthur, the man he’s dreamt of ( _whatever it was, it wasn’t a dream_ ) and Arthur, crown prince of Camelot and – _shit_.

  
  
Arthur turns to him and looks at him, surprised at first and then sceptical, as if he was questioning his sanity. It’s quite possible that he’s right in doing so.

________________________

 

  


That first night is – uncomfortable. Merlin looks at Arthur and sees wide fields and dark forests, a castle that burns and a castle that lives; armies that go to war and a sword in Arthur’s hand and a crown on his head. Arthur looks at Merlin and sees the mad guy who he has to share a room with for the next few years.

 

Merlin tries everything in his might to get a grip, but the things that go on in his head overwhelm him. Even though, or possibly just because he can’t explain them.

He lies in his bed at night and doesn’t know where his thoughts end or start. They’re so loud in the quiet room that he doesn’t even notice Arthur getting up, until he hears the retching noises coming from the bathroom. He gets up to check out what is going on and he finds Arthur on his knees in front of the toilet bowl, one arm across it and his forehead against the porcelain.

“What is – “

 

Arthur turns his head and stares up at him, wide-eyed. His hair is a sweaty mess and Merlin is sure he’s never seen him so _pale_.  
(They’ve known each other for less than a day, but that doesn’t matter, not really.)

 

When he comes back with a bottle of water a moment later, Arthur has gotten away from the toilet and is sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall. His head is tipped back and he glimpses at Merlin through half-closed lids. Merlin sits down across from him and hands him the bottle.

“You look awful,” is what Merlin tries carefully, half-grinning, and when Arthur replies with a weak „not half as bad as you do”, he can’t help but laugh.

It can’t be that bad if Arthur is still able to insult him.  
  
For a second Merlin watches, fascinated, how Arthur’s throat moves around the water he swallows, then he starts talking:

About the little village he’s from, and about his mom, who works her ass off but still barely manages to keep herself and her son fed and warm, let alone send him to college, about how he studied hours and hours to get a scholarship, and worked some more hours in a tiny library. He talks about Will and Jack and Laura and about the times they spent together, their New Year’s trip to London that ended on the side of a road because the road was freezing.

And while Arthur’s heavy breathing calms down slowly, Merlin talks and talks and only leaves a few things out.

 

There’s always a few things he leaves out.

________________________

Merlin realizes soon enough: Arthur is the same he’s always been.

 

And Merlin still doesn’t know what is wrong with him. He doesn’t know where it comes from, this strange feeling of _knowing Arthur_ – that warmth somewhere deep and low in his stomach, like Odysseus finally reaching Ithaca after years of sailing blind, whenever Arthur looks at him and smiles, or when Arthur looks at him as if Merlin is talking in some strange, unknown language. Or when Arthur looks at him like he’s the last great wonder in the world.

 

They’ve known each other barely a week, but it feels like an eternity and if there’s one thing Merlin has realized about himself, it’s this:

 

Strangeness it not a coincidence with him.  
  


 

 

________________________ _**Before:**_ _____

 

Arthur is terribly arrogant and patronizing and if there’s someone who wants him dead – well, they can go right ahead.

 

But there’s something about him Merlin can’t quite put his finger on, something that soon makes it impossible for Merlin to actually hate Arthur. And suddenly, Arthur is prepared to risk his life for his manservant, and then he helps a druid boy who’s meant to be his demise, and then he slays a unicorn and saves Camelot and everyone talks about this great fate that they supposedly share – and Merlin starts to believe it.

 

Merlin starts _wanting_ to believe in it.

 

  
  
  
  
_____ _**Now:**_ ________________________

 

 

As Arthur is in danger of being knocked down by a falling tree, Merlin lets his magic flare for the first time in two years. He stops time and he can feel his eyes glow golden and it’s the most natural thing in the world.

 

He pulls Arthur out of the way and the second he loosens his grip on the strands of time, fear grips him.

 

Merlin knows one thing: He’s not _normal_ and he’s never been.

Normal people can’t stop time.

Normal people also can’t influence gravity, or heal wounds or ignite flames without any tools.

Normal people can’t do what he can and they don’t feel what he feels when he lets his magic spark and becomes one with the world around him, to bend and break it according to his will.

  
  
He knows all this and since he’s been able to form a thought, his mother has taught him to be careful with his powers – _no one is supposed to know, Merlin._  
Since he knows why, after every rush of power there was fear, but it’s never been so gripping and chocking as now, with Arthur looking at him as if he _knows_ something. There’s something in his eyes, around the lines of his mouth, but it’s gone within a second and then Arthur keeps on running, yelling at Merlin to hurry up.

 

And all that stays with Merlin is the fear of being found out, the fear of _Arthur_ finding out.

Arthur can never find out.

 

 

 

________________________ _**Before:**_ _____

 

It’s the breathless admiration in Arthur’s otherwise carefully guarded features when they enter a small cave in the White Mountains that lets Merlin hope.

The magic in this place is like a living, breathing creature, an entity on its own, letting its fingers glide over their bodies and it’s so _present_ that not even Arthur can deny it.  
_  
_ If Merlin can convince him that _this_ is magic –

 

________________________

 

 

  
„Maybe you’re right, Merlin.“

 

  
  
  
  
_____ _**Now:** _ ________________________

  
  
It might sound crazy, but it’s true: they’re memories.

 

That’s the only solid explanation he has for the images in his head when he’s not prepared for it, the scenes playing out in front of his inner eye when he lets his thoughts wander, and the words clinging to his mind when he’s asleep.  


 

It comes in waves and never when he’s counting on it. Sometimes it’s barely distinguishable from a dream and fades away soon enough and sometimes it makes him _feel_ things and doubt reality and his own mind.

He doesn’t get it, but he’s trying to put the pieces together to finally get the full picture. Sometimes he thinks he might be close to that, only to realize a moment later that he still knows nothing.

 

They’re memories of a past life and it sounds mad but it’s true. He’s Merlin and he’s got magic ( _he_ is _magic_ , growls a strange, familiar voice from deep within) and strangeness is not a coincidence with him.  
  


________________________

  
  
  
Arthur and Merlin grow closer with each day that goes by. They’re not always nice to each other and they fight about tiny things and, _god_ , sometimes he just wants to strangle him, but Merlin can’t imagine life without Arthur anymore.

 

And then there’s the memories of a life that one was, and the feeling that sometimes sneaks up on him, as if he was chasing his own downfall with every step. Something inside him is screaming at him to _turn back, run you fool, run run run_ and then there’s his magic and some days he feels so different and lonely that every fibre of his being burns with it.

 

Sometimes he doesn’t know what to do.

Sometimes, when he’s lying in his bed at night and listening to Arthur’s quiet breathing, he doesn’t know how he himself is still breathing at all.  
  


 

 

________________________ _**Before:**_ _____

  
Merlin can still feel it – Arthur’s lips, claiming his own hungrily. His hands, warm and rough and they’re _everywhere_ and Arthur _wanted_ him. Oh, just how Arthur’d wanted him. He’d wanted him so much that he’d lost himself in Merlin’s eyes and Merlin’s touch and it’s this thought alone that fills him with a sort of bitter resistance and lets him stand up straight, while Arthur doesn’t dare to look at him and tells him to saddle the horses. _ak , cs,_

 

He’s going on a hunting trip.

And no – he’s not going to need his manservant with him.  


 

 

  
_____ _**Now:** _ ________________________

 

It started out as an evening like any other – in a bar with the others, first shot in hand and then a second and Merlin can’t say what went different, or at what point. But somehow, Arthurs starts holding Merlin’s face in his hands, and their lips are soft and warm on each other’s.

 

Merlin hesitates for only a second, then he throws caution to the wind.

________________________

 

Merlin is prepared for rejection. He’s lived through it once – he will survive it a second time. It is the same bitter defiance that saved him last times that’s flooding him now, _what was can never be again, it can never be again_. It’s a small but noisy part of him that already hates Arthur for the pain he will put Merlin through.

 

Merlin forgets one thing, though: They are living in different times now _oh_ , so much has changed.

 

Arthur’s arms keep holding on to him throughout the night and his fingertips trail over scars and backbones and tense muscles.

 

Merlin is prepared for rejection, so a warm smile and a kiss to the side of his head the next morning are entirely too much. He presses his face into Arthur’s neck and he’s glad that Arthur doesn’t ask why Merlin is suddenly shaking or why Merlin’s fingertips are digging into his skin. Arthur just keeps holding on to him, drawing patterns onto his back and pressing kisses to his hair.

 

Maybe –

  
_Oh, Arthur Arthur Arthur_  
  


________________________

 

  
Maybe this _is_ their chance for a new beginning.  
  


 

 

________________________ _**Before:**_ _____

 

 

He just needs to reach out and his eyes turn to gold and he is _alive_.

 

He just needs to reach out and the bandit flies against a tree in a high arch. The sword that was meant for Arthur clatters to the earth.

 

He just needs to reach out and Arthur looks at him and –

God, Merlin doesn’t know how to describe Arthur’s expression.

 

Arthur’s expression is surprised and angry and hurt and disappoint and nothing like that and so much more at the same time, but it tells Merlin this: This is it. Their ways are carved into stone, lying to their feet, and nothing they do from this point on will change that. There is no praying or wishing or hoping or screaming that will take them back and no magic in the world will change their paths.

 

But time doesn’t hold, because Merlin’s not holding it and the bandits‘ attack does not stop, just because their friendship is breaking, so they fight on. Arthur saves Merlin’s life without hesitation and Merlin can finally save Arthur without trying to hide. But still, Merlin knows: This doesn’t mean anything.

It doesn’t change anything.

________________________

  
_„All I know for sure is that I’ve lost both my parents to magic. It is pure evil. I’ll never lose sight of that again.“_

 

The words echo in the night and in the woods and in his head, as if they were the only thing that Arthur ever said or that Merlin ever heard. They keep him company on the way back to Camelot.

Arthur went back there two days ago.

 

Merlin doesn’t know if he will be welcome ( _he will never be welcome anymore_ ) but he still trusts Arthur.

He doesn’t think he’s on the way to his execution.

 

________________________

  
Upon arriving in Camelot, he is met with silence and curious glances and really no execution.

  
Arthur does not lift the ban on magic. Merlin hadn’t expected it.

 

What Merlin also hadn’t expected: Arthur has a new manservant who’s caring for him and his swords and his armour.

So Arthur’s lost all faith in him.

 

It shouldn’t surprise him so much but _god,_ it hurts.

________________________

 

  
"Merlin –"

 

„Sire.“ He sounds wary and surprised and sceptical and _please please please, don’t let him hear the hope._

 

„I want you to stop. Using it, I mean.“ That‘s not – He must have misheard. Arthur cannot be serious. „I think I don’t have to remind you how dangerous it is and –“

 

No. _No, no, no._ This is all so _wrong_.

 

„Arthur.“

 

Arthur takes a step forward, further into the room and towards Merlin and he throws up his arms helplessly. „What has to happen for you to understand that it is evil –„

 

„Go.“ Merlin springs up so suddenly that his chair falls over. Subconsciously he knows that he just gave an order to the _king_ but he can’t bring himself to regret it.

Arthur is so surprised about it that it takes his words away for a second. And then he takes another step forward, more determined and with his shoulders drawn back, proudly.

„As _king of Camelot_ I,“ he starts, but Merlin stops him.

 

As gentle as he can he lets his magic push Arthur back and out of the room, closing the door behind him without moving from where he stands at the window.

His magic lifts up the chair again and he sits down slowly.

 

He had always thought that he would do anything Arthur asked of him. That he would travel to the end of the world if that’s where Arthur needed him. That he would wait an eternity if it meant that Arthur would learn to _understand_. That he would give his life willingly, if it meant saving Arthur’s.

 

But the price Arthur wants him to pay now is too much for even him.

________________________

 

Maybe they did share a destiny at some point – a shared future in a land of Arthur’s making.

 

But somewhere something went wrong; they’d been at the wrong place at the wrong time.

 

Merlin’s believe in Arthur is still unbreakable but he’s not so sure about his own role in their story anymore.  


 

 

 

  
_____ _**Now:**_ ________________________

 

 

Merlin sits up, half in trance, and puts his head into his hands.

 

_It is pure evil. I’ll never lose sight of that again._

 

Arthur’s fingers drift over his spine lazily, causing him to shive. He sits up slowly and puts both his arms around Merlin’s waist and presses his forehead to Merlin’s neck.

„You do know that you can talk to me about anything, do you?“ he murmurs, pressing a short kiss between Merlin’s shoulder blades.

 

„Yeah.“

 

 _It is pure evil. I’ll never lose sight of that again._  


________________________

  
Merlin can’t remember how long he’s been sitting in the library, or how late it is. It is dark outside when Arthur sits down next to him.

„You still learning?“

 

„Did you at least bring coffee or are you just here to distract me?“

 

„Well, you know: drinks are strictly forbidden in the library,“ Arthur replies with a smirk, putting a cup of coffee down on the table.

Merlin thanks him with a wide smile and goes back to work.

 

„So how long have you been here?“

  
„A few hours.“

 

There’s a few minutes of silence as Merlin tries to get back into the text lying before him.

 

„Merlin, stop it.“

Arthur goes on to say some more, but all Merlin can hear is _I want you to stop, I want you to stop, I want you to stop_ and it’s ringing in his ears and _it is pure evil it is pure evil_ und _turn around and run run run run_.

„I am _not_ going to stop,“ he shouts suddenly and only when he sees Arthur’s bewildered expression does he remember where he is and what the problem is ( _and that he sometimes feels like he’s going mad_ ).

 

„I’m sorry, Arthur.“

 

Arthur doesn’t understand what’s going on with Merlin – and how could he? He gives him a short and awkward clap on the shoulder before he goes and leaves him to his books and his frantic heart and his madness.

________________________

 

He can’t imagine life without Arthur anymore and that’s exactly the problem.

 

He has magic, he _is_ magic and no one but his mom knows about it and he doesn’t know _why_ (and how could he?), why _him_ ( _he’s lying in bed and shivers and shivers and watches the lamp that he has dancing and that’s writing_ monster _into the silence with its light_ ) and he feels so alive whenever magic is pumping through his veins, burning and shivering right through him and it feels so _right_ – And whenever he lets go of it, he’s alone.

 

And this secret is like a wall between him and the world, and him and Arthur, even when there’s not an inch left between their bodies. He wants to trust Arthur and _oh_ , he trusts him with his life, but he can’t tell him about it because _I want you to stop_ and _it is pure evil_ and Arthur’s look while he said all that – Merlin will never forget that.

 

He does not want to live a life without Arthur in it ( _not again_ ) but he can’t let him know about his magic ( _not again_ ) but he also can’t keep living a lie ( _not for much longer_ ) and – _oh, help._

 

_How did we come this far?_

 

 

________________________ _**Before**_ : _____

  
It is Mordred’s voice in his head after so many, many years: _We’re coming_.

 

It is haughty and arrogant and dangerously stupid – just because Arthur and Merlin aren’t friends anymore, the king and Camelot are still under his protection and if the legends are true, then Merlin is still the greatest warlock to ever walk the earth.

 

But the message also tells him this: the alliance that Mordred and Morgana have forged and the army they have built must be strong, if they think they can bring him to his knees.

 

He doesn’t know how much time there’s left, but if this is going to be the great battle – well, he will give them a battle that they won’t forget.

________________________

  
  
"Sire."

 

He doesn’t care about bursting into a small banquet with guests from neighbouring kingdoms. However, if the looks on their faces are anything to go by, the guests do seem to care about him.

 

Arthur looks up abruptly and he is so surprised to see him that for a second, he seems to forget everything that has happened between them and they are just King Arthur and his stupid, crazy, wise, courageous manservant.

But he needs to maintain appearances, so he simply asks „What’s wrong?“ in a cool voice. The moment has passed. They are once again King Arthur and the man who used to be his servant ( _the man who was once his lover, for a thousand glances and one night and the man who betrayed him_ ).

 

„I need to talk to you, sire. It is urgent.“

 

They stare at each other for a few seconds and at first, Merlin doesn’t think Arthur will follow him. But then the king rises, nods to his guests and excuses himself.

 

Merlin leads the way to a small, unused chamber. They stand as far apart from each other as they can.

 

„Morgana and Mordred are preparing an attack.“

 

Arthur, who’s leaning against the wall with his arms crossed in front of his chest, loses control of his facial features for the second time this evening. „How –“

He interrupts himself upon seeing Merlin’s incredulous look.

„How long do we have?“

 

Merlin shifts his weight nervously. He knew that this question would come (if Arthur were to listen to him), but he has no definite answer to it. Telepathy only works in a certain radius, but Mordred has always been good at it and his powers must have increased over the past few years.

„I can’t say for sure, sire. Maybe two days, three at most.“

 

Arthur lets his head fall back against the wall. „Shit.“

„We still have time,“ whispers Merlin, bitter and determined and Arthur looks at him.

„Yeah, but will it be enough? Two days are short and three not much more and I don’t know –“

„Will you allow me to do my bit in protecting Camelot?“

 

It’s the question that’s been on his tongue the entire time and it’s the question that he has to ask because if Arthur doesn’t trust him now, then all his magic is without reason and his life without meaning.

Arthur, who once took on a new manservant, because he couldn’t trust Merlin with his weapons and his armor anymore, is silent and looks at him long and thoughtful.

 

„Do what you deem necessary,“ is what he says in the end, stepping forward with defiant resignation in his eyes, putting Camelot’s fate once more into Merlin’s hands. And for the first time, he does so consciously.

________________________

 

Over the next two days, Merlin lets all of his magic flow into the castle walls.

 

Arthur has declared a state of emergency and is preparing his people and life is so busy in Camelot that hardly anyone notices Merlin wandering the corridors and alleys and halls with closed eyes, a quiet singsong mantra of magic on his lips. Finally, he has made the castle an extension of himself – he can feel his magic in every step and stone, in every gate and every door he passes through.

He can _feel_ the throbbing and beating of his magic wherever he goes and he can’t believe how everyone just keeps on hurrying through the castle and not notice its _glow_ , the golden shine it‘s emitting as if it stood under an ever-present setting sun.

It’s vibrating with his magic and Merlin finds it almost hard to believe that no one _notices_.

 

 

On the break of the third day he goes to find Arthur in his chambers.

He frees Arthur’s manservant Will (there’s a small smile on Merlin’s lips whenever he hears the name) of his duties, delivering the tablet with Arthur’s breakfast on it himself.

 

It’s almost like before: Merlin puts the tablet down on Arthur’s big desk, pulls open the curtains and the windows and while Arthur rolls to his side to spend just five more minutes in bed, Merlin folds his clothes and puts them away. He lets his fingers trail over the armour that’s already laid out.

 

Upon seeing Merlin, Arthur is not at all surprised at first. However, he still almost falls out of his bed once he registers where he is and who usually greets him in the mornings now.

„Merlin! What are you doing here?“

 

„I gave Will the morning off and, well, someone had to bring you your breakfast,“ Merlin tells him, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. He stands by the window, watching the busy life on the streets down below.

 

„You did –“ Arthur starts and stops, shaking his head. Then he gets up and moves over to his desk, before continuing in a dry voice: „You do know that you have lost all authority to do something like that years ago?“

 

„You certainly don’t have to remind me of that, sire.“

He knows that he’s not imagining the burning look he feels on his neck, even though he’s still looking out through the window.

He feels and sees and hears a lot more, since his magic is everywhere.

 

When Arthur is almost finished with his breakfast, Merlin begins: „I have drawn up my shields everywhere. They will hold off all magical attacks as good and as long as possible.“ And there it is again, Arthur’s eyes on him. „You should take everyone who’s not part of the fight into the dungeons. That’s where my shields are strongest.“ He casts one last glance over Camelot and the fields behind it then he turns around and finally returns Arthur’s glance. „In the dungeons, the throne room – and here.“

 

He’s not entirely sure why he has cast so much magic into the walls around Arthur’s chamber. No one will be there once the fight begins; no one will seek refuge there.

The dungeons aren’t of immediate interest to their attackers, the throne room however _is_ , but this room – it’s personal.

And Merlin doesn’t regret it.

 

Arthur just nods before he gets up and casts a glance at his armour. Merlin is on it within a second.

 

Even years later, it still comes natural him: What goes where and how fast he has to pull the straps to make it sit tight.

He reaches for Arthur’s sword last but something is – off. The weight is wrong and the hilt is different and he knows what is wrong with it, but he stills pulls it out to take a look at it. It’s entirely wrong. He shoves the wrong sword back into its wrong sheath and spins around to meet Arthur’s eyes.

„This is _not_ your sword!“ he growls.

 

„You think I don’t recognize my own sword, Merlin?“ Arthur’s voice is sardonic and cutting, even though he knows exactly what Merlin is referring to.

 

„This isn’t Excalibur.“

 

„But it is my sword.“

 

Frustrated, Merlin throws the sword back onto the table. During all these years, he had never been truly angry at Arthur, but this – this is too much. That Arthur could cast away the strongest weapon within his kingdom because he didn’t trust him anymore.

„Where is it?“

 

„In the armory,“ Arthur admits grimly.

 

And it’s all that Merlin needs to know and _oh_ , he’s not bothered at all by Arthur standing merely a few feet or away, or by the fact that Arthur still thinks magic is evil – he stretches his fingers and feels his eyes burn golden.  
" _Ic ābanne þæt sweord Caledfwlch ætīewþ gehende_."

The sword and its sheath appear in his hands and he pushed it into Arthur’s resolutely.

„This sword was forged with a dragon’s breath, so _don’t lose it.“_

 

Arthur looks at it warily for a moment, but then he holds it out to Merlin again. Merlin steps forward and ties the sheath to Arthur’s belt with more force than strictly necessary without breaking eye contact. Even when Excalibur hangs securely at Arthur’s side, he doesn’t step back.

 

„My magic will stay, even once I’m gone.“

 

Arthur’s eyes turn to slits and he comes even closer, pushing into Merlin’s personal space (and it’s been so long but _oh_ , Merlin remembers this, remembers being even closer).

„What do you mean – once you’re gone?“ Arthur wants to know and he raises his chin a little because Merlin is still slightly taller than him and they’re so _close_ that they’re almost touching.

Merlin can’t help himself – he casts a quick glance to Arthur’s lips and they’re _so terribly close_ and he tilts his head the slightest bit, forward and a little to the side, until he can feel Arthur’s breath on his face. It’s the first time in two days that he forgets how thin he’s spread himself.

 

„Not even I can cast so much magic without taking damage. And then there’s Morgana and Mordred -“

 

And he doesn’t get any further than that because suddenly Arthur’s pulling him in for a kiss that’s rough, and desperate. Their teeth click together uncomfortably and it’s too much tongue and too little lips and there is no finesse or softness to it, but it’s still everything that Merlin has craved for _years_. His fingers pull on Arthur’s hair to get him _closer closer closer_ and then Merlin breaks their kiss. They’re still holding on to each other, still so close that they can feel each other’s heavy breathing on their skin.

Merlin leans his forehead against Arthur’s and sets a hand down on Arthur’s chest before letting it drift slowly over his chain mail.  
" _Ic_   _bewreon þē in þā scinncræftas þæt gifeðe tō mec_ " he whispers against Arthur’s lips and only then does he take a step back.

He takes Arthur’s complete form in with another scrutinizing look and then he nods to himself, satisfied with his work. And then his face breaks into a grin that’s so wide that it hurts.

„Try not to die, okay?“

 

Merlin has almost made it to the door when Arthur finds his voice again: „So first, I’m losing my parents to magic, then my sister and now –“ He stops, searching for words. ( _the man who was once his lover, for a thousand glances and one night and a kiss amongst ruins and his stupid, crazy, wise, courageous manservant and the man who betrayed him_ ). „And now you? Now tell me again how it’s no evil.“

 

Resigned, Merlin lets his head fall back, drawing a deep breath.

„You still don’t understand, do you?“

________________________

 

The battle comes and goes and what’s left in its wake is a Camelot in ruins; a burning Camelot. But mostly a Camelot that’s still alive.

 

Merlin’s shields and protection spells have held, and they keep holding. Even Morgana and Mordred’s united powers couldn’t bring down Emrys _and_ Excalibur.

 

When the battle nears its end and Merlin realizes that his help is no longer needed, he backs out. His work is done.

 

He seeks out the highest tower of the castle ( _the highest tower in the world_ ) and watches the battle come to an end. He watches the end of the day and the sunset, all the while channelling all that is left of his magic into the walls of Camelot.

 

 

 

  
  
  
_____ _**Now:**_ ________________________

 

Merlin knows: This is it. The puzzle is complete. Maybe there’s a piece missing here or there, but the full picture – oh, it’s never been this clear.

 

When he gets back to their dorm and their room, Arthur is fresh out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his hips and his hair still wet. Merlin doesn’t even pretend anymore that everything’s alright, because it’s not and he’s so confused and he’s so close to just _breaking_ and he doesn’t know what to do with himself and all his magic and his memories, so he just takes Arthur’s face into his hands and kisses him, rough and desperate, and their teeth are clicking against each other and there’s too much tongue and too little lips and it’s not even close to what Merlin wants, but it’s all he can give.

  
He pulls away Arthur’s towel and drags Arthur to bed with him and every time Arthur stops to look at him questions in his eyes, Merlin grins so wide that it hurts.

 

He buries Arthur beneath him, roams his body with his mouth, tasting salty sweat, curling his tongue around Arthur’s dick and he enjoys every second, every noise he draws from Arthur.

They’re Merlin and Arthur, and they’re here and now and in this moment, it’s all that matters.  


________________________

  
Maybe he can forget about being different.

Maybe he can forget about having a secret.

Maybe he can forget what’s been before and what is now.

 

 _Maybe maybe maybe_ –

________________________

 

The fear sits so very, very deep within and _it is pure evil_ and _I want you to stop_ und Arthur’s expression as he understands – those are things Merlin just can’t forget. And then everything starts from scratch because Arthur is so unbelievably _stupid_ to run in front of a bus without noticing. So Merlin stops time again, grabs Arthur and pulls him out of the way and his eyes aren’t quite blue again when he lets go of his magic. Arthur’s eyes are impossibly wide and Merlin’s thoughts are spinning and _turn around turn around run run run run you foolish old warlock._

 

Somehow, he manages to get away from Arthur.

 

He runs.

________________________

 

The University of Camelot is so old that no one really knows exactly when it was built.

What is known is this: In the past – so many seeming eternities before the renovations and the new buildings – it used to be a castle of kings.

What is rumoured is this: _Once upon a time there used to be an old warlock living in this old castle amongst the people of his king. And no one knew that he was a warlock until he gave his life to save the people and the king and the castle in their very worst and their most desperate situation. Until this day, he watches over anyone who’s wandering the halls of his castle._

 

Merlin doesn’t get to this part of Campus a lot. Their dorm and his lecture rooms are in the new buildings.

But now that he’s here, remembering all that once was – he can feel himself in these walls, these halls.

 

It takes a while for him to find his way but eventually, he arrives on the highest tower of the castle ( _the highest tower in the world_ ) and watches the sunset with a tiny smile on his lips.

 

He wonders what would happen if he tried to reach the magic surrounding him – what would happen if he tried to take back the magic he once channelled into Camelot.

Can one person carry so much magic and not combust?

( _Can a person carry magic at all?_ )

 

He knows he’s running away and he knows that eventually, he will have to face Arthur (But does he have to? _Can one person carry so much magic?_ ) but _god_ , he’s so very, very scared. (Does Arthur understand what he’s witnessed?)

 

And he wonders what would be easier: To know what was before, but be different ( _different – without magic. This is a gift and it comes with a price._ ) or be the same, but not know where he could end up?

 

But in the end, he _is_ the same and he does know what happened to him before, and there’s nothing that could change that.

________________________

 

Merlin forgets one thing, though: They are living in different times now _oh_ , so much has changed.  


________________________

 

Suddenly, there’s Arthur, his breath heavy and fast and his face red. His eyes are wide when he looks at Merlin. „Goddamn, Merlin, I was looking for you _everywhere_. I called you. I texted you. Merlin, _you goddamn coward._ “

 

Merlin wants to argue with him, but then Arthur’s right in front of him.

 

„I know everything, Merlin.“

 

Merlin is in the process of holding up his phone to Arthur to prove that he has no reception up here when the words register with him.

 

„How – What do you mean, you _know_ everything?!“

 

„You still don’t understand, do you?“ Arthur quotes at him and he can’t quite swallow a grin when he sees the shock in Merlin’s face. „Do you really think I’d forget you?“

 

_Oh, you foolish old warlock._

  
  


________________________ _**What happened in between:**_ ________________________

 

 

Shortly after the battle (after Merlin’s death), Arthur lifts the ban on magic.

 

Merlin is everywhere – in the walls surrounding him, in the floors he walks on.

 

It seems wrong to ban magic when it’s all around him.

 

And _oh Merlin, I understand._

 


End file.
